Enigma
by Orion The Free
Summary: A short story about a 'rogue' Assassin and some of his exploits. Written in first person perspective.


The night air is cool against my skin; the same as every night. It keeps me calm as I run across the rooftops of this city as if it was second nature. My feet hit the tiles almost silently, making only the occasional clacking noises. I am on my way to my target… my last target. The only problem, I don't know it yet. To understand why, you must first understand a little bit about me, about who I am and what I believe. My name is Prospiero Trevisan, and I am- was an Assassin.

I was born in 1464, in a small town that doesn't exist anymore. I was born into a small group of Assassins; we weren't anything more than a footnote in the history of the order though. This wasn't from lack of trying though. You see, it wasn't that we didn't have any targets; it's just that we weren't any good. Most of our Assassins were either too old or too inexperienced to handle the assignments properly. Well eventually the Templars figured out that where we were. You can imagine there excitement. Our order had already been forced to abandon many of its old ways and styles, now we were growing fewer in number as well. I'm sure that they practically jumped with joy when they realized that there was a group of their most hated adversaries so easily accessible. After all, our sect was in a small, no-name village… for 'stealth' concerns. Well stealth and skill were nowhere to be found when the Templars raided us. Not many of us escaped, not many of us actually killed anything either. Sure there were a few that we ambushed here and there, a few more bright ones stumbled into our poorly laid traps that could have easily been avoided, but for the most part, everyone of our Assassin's were terrible at swordplay. Stupid bastards.

So I was one of the few that escaped (although sometimes I think it would have been better to have died that live with the embarrassment that comes with losing to Templars). Since all my contacts had been severed and I had no contact with any of the other survivors, I was forced to live a 'normal' life and put away my blade… or so I thought. I believe it was around 1485 when I came home one night to find a robed man waiting in my house. Normally I would have waited for the man to try and mug me and then run my knife across his throat and watch as he squirmed and bled to death. However, this man spoke to me, claimed he was from the order and that they had an assignment for me, he also informed me that I was now going to be taking all of the targets in the city; since I had lived there for so long. That next night, I drew blood from a target for the first time in years, and I did it with pleasure.

I suppose that was one thing that separated me from most of the other Assassins. Where as they killed for peace and the creed, I killed for the enjoyment of it as well. I enjoyed drawing blood so much that I made my blade serrated so that I could do more damage as I withdrew the blade, thereby causing more blood to spill faster. I knew that my pleasures would not be seen well in the eyes of the order so I kept it to myself, but oh how I felt like dancing with joy whenever I was approached with a target to kill. For the next couple of years I did what the order told me, followed its 'creed', fought for 'peace in all things' and all that other shit. While I did enjoy helping people by killing their oppressors, I felt that there were others that could die and help others. Unfortunately, the order did not agree with me. I decided to leave the order in early 1488. Although, so I could conduct my new profession in secret, I fake my death on my last assignment.

For the next several years I killed only smaller targets, not wanting to attract too much attention from the order, mad the kills look like acts of random violence. This only further appealed to my appetite for blood. Everything was going fine… until I made a mistake. The one time I decided to go for a bigger fish, the one time I had broken my creed, I killed the wrong target. I mistook a disguised Assassin as the target. Somehow the order found out. I never found out how they found out, but they did. Since that day I had been constantly on the move, since I was now out in the open I killed who I pleased, when I pleased… even had to kill a few more Assassins along the way. I developed a few contacts in a couple of cities that I ran through frequently, whenever I would enter the city I would drop by and see what the latest happenings were, who I needed to kill. That's how I got to where I am tonight.

I had finally reached my destination. I sit perched on the tile rooftop of the open square courtyard; the corpse of a pesky archer lies next to me, his blood slowly pouring down the side of the building. I can see my target, he sits in the center of the courtyard on a small wooden bench, he appears to be reading a book by candlelight. An interesting habit, yet it will prove to be his down fall. I have to restrain myself from simply rushing down and striking him. I silently climb down the wall and approach the target from behind, there is nothing more than statues to accompany us in the moonlight; the stone sentries are a silent reminder of what one must be to become a killer.

As I near my target I feel the excitement growing, I can barely restrain myself from rushing into a dead sprint and forcing my blade into his neck. The man speaks without warning, catching me off guard "I knew you would come, Assassin. I assume you will try to kill me. You may try." I had to react quickly, if I did not, I might miss my chance. I extended my blade as I set off at a dead sprint toward him, leaping into the air so as to come down upon his head. He suddenly leaped from the bench mere seconds before I would have killed him. Before I could land he grabbed me out of the air and threw me to the ground. I rolled and recovered, my blade glistening in the moonlight. "I shall claim your life this night." I say, my voice bathed in madness. He responds "You have broken the creed and killed my brothers. You shall face your punishment." I realize that this is all a trap, and I have fallen into it when it could have been so easily avoided. There was no target, this man was an Assassin. He used my contact against me and he has been sent to kill me. No matter. I shall take his life anyway, it would not be the first time.

The Assassin drew a medium length blade from under his coat and rushed toward me. I draw my sword and deflect his first strike, I easily counter and stab him with my blade, its serrated edges cut and rend his flesh as I strike at his heart. The man falls to the ground dead, blood pouring from the wound in his chest. I become aware that I am not alone in the yard. I look up and around and see that there are four other Assassins in the courtyard. They were the Assassin's white garb as opposed to some other disguise. They say nothing as they surround me. As they draw their swords they circle like vultures, waiting for the perfect time to eat their meal. I sheath my sword and draw my two curved, serrated daggers. As they all rush me at once I roll between the two directly in front of me, slicing their legs as I do so. I cut one deeper than the other, hitting something vital, his blood shoots over my side. As I stand and turn in my blood soaked Assassin's garb I see that the one that I had shed blood on me was further away from the rest. I drop my daggers and quickly throw two of my throwing knives at him. I know that they will not strike him, but they will suffice for my purposes. As he spins to dodge my knives I close on him and as he completes his turn he slams his head into me blade. The bones of his skull make a sickening crack. I quickly remove my blade and turn to face the remaining Assassins. I hear the dead man hit the ground behind me. Two more rush me in quick succession, one after the other. Their senses clouded by anger for their fallen comrade cause them to be careless and act like novices. I draw my sword and grapple the first with my free hand, I strike at his shoulder with my blade arm, he cries in pain as I kick him to the ground. The second Assassin and I engage in swordplay, we block blow for blow. He's good, but I'm better. As he attempts a quick overhead strike I drop my sword and grab his sword arm, I quickly stab his eye with my blade. It pops like a cherry between my fingers. I feel his arm go limp and I release him. He slumps to the ground dead.

I look around to see where the fourth Assassin has gone, yet he is nowhere to be seen… at first. I hear a faint noise behind me. As I turn to face the noise with my blade raised. There is a thunderclap, some dogs bark off in the distance. A red hot pain pierces my chest. My limbs fail me as I complete my turn. All as I can think, all I can do is wonder "What sorcery is this?"

As I fall toward the ground I see a man dressed in black Assassin's robs, they include an odd addition, a cape that covers his left shoulder. His armored plates shine in the moonlight, his arm raised and smoke curls around his fingertips. I hit the ground; my body is limp and won't respond to my commands. I'm wounded, but I don't know where. This man walks over to me and holds me in his arms. I ask him "Why are you watching me die?" he responds only with "Don't speak, let death embrace you." His voice seems to reverberate through the air around it, or maybe I'm just dying. My vision blurs and I see the darkness encroaching in the edges of my vision. As I close my eyes the last thing I hear is the man, he tells me "Che la morte ti dia la pace che cercavi. Requiescat in pace."


End file.
